


but just close my eyes on the way down

by goldheartedsky



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: (Very mildly like it happens once), Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Canon Compliant, Clothed Sex, Come Eating, Dom Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Finger Sucking, Frottage, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nicky has a praise kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Sub Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Wet & Messy, gagging, nobody was writing good enough face fucking so I had to do it myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29429532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldheartedsky/pseuds/goldheartedsky
Summary: It makes him wild sometimes, how much Nicky wants it.The times when he can’t stop staring at Joe’s hands. The times when Nicky grinds his ass into the couch, legs spread, eyes dark. The times when he crawls on his knees and fucking begs.It makes Joe want to tear him apart.They’ve played this game a thousand times over, but Joe never tires of giving Nicky everything he needs and more.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 14
Kudos: 151
Collections: D/s JoeNicky Event





	but just close my eyes on the way down

**Author's Note:**

> So face fucking is arguably my #1 kink and I have yet to find a Joe/Nicky fic that really hits all my buttons for it, so here I am, yet again, writing the smut I wish to see in the world.
> 
> Please keep in mind the tags, especially the “wet and messy” one 👅💦 😈
> 
> (P.S. Happy Valentine’s Day to all the fellow single horny bastards)

* * *

It makes him wild sometimes, how much Nicky wants it.

The times when he can’t stop staring at Joe’s hands. The times when Nicky grinds his ass into the couch, legs spread, eyes dark. The times when he crawls on his knees and fucking _begs_.

It makes Joe want to tear him apart.

“Are you ready, Nicolò?”

Nicky stares up at him—naked and kneeling at his feet—and his pupils are blown so wide that the blackness has entirely swallowed up any ocean blue left in his irises. The flush in his chest has traveled up to the hollow of his throat and all the way down his stomach to his red, aching cock. His beautiful mouth cracks open and a trembling breath falls out as Nicky’s legs spread even further open, knees scraping across the floor. “Yes,” he croaks, so desperate and needy that it sends a shiver down Joe’s spine.

The confirmation. Now, the game begins.

Joe doesn’t have to ask what Nicky wants to say if he needs to stop because Nicky has never once tried to stop it. He gives himself over so easily, so wholly, to Joe that there’s never been a second thought in it. The trust has been there from the beginning and Joe knows it hasn’t gone away now.

So he trails his fingers over the younger man’s high cheekbones, the sharp corner of his jaw. “So beautiful,” Joe breathes, heart beating hard and steady in his chest as he brushes over Nicky’s lips. He can feel his cock straining at the front of his jeans, growing unbearably hard as Nicky’s dark lashes flutter. “You’re just made for this, aren’t you? You _must_ be, with how fucking much you want it…”

He tangles a fist in Nicky’s hair, wrenching the younger man’s head back roughly and relishing in the long line of his now-exposed throat.

“Do you understand what you _do_ to me, my love?” Joe growls, and steps between Nicky’s bare thighs. “The unspeakable sins you make me want to commit?” There’s a flash of pleading in Nicky’s eyes and Joe knows how he would be begging for it if he were allowed to speak at this point. But the toying is just as much fun as the payoff, so all he does is press the Genoan’s face firmly against the straining fly of his jeans. “Do you feel this, Nicolò?” Joe asks, rolling his hips hard enough that the zipper teeth bite into the delicate skin of Nicky’s lips. “All of this is for _you_. Do you want it?”

The first precious whine echoes from below, Nicky’s mouth falling open as he laves his tongue over the dark fabric, and Joe’s fingers tighten their grip on that silky hair.

“Maybe I should just jerk off all over this pretty face,” he purrs, “and leave you with nothing. But that would be such a waste of your perfect throat, wouldn’t it?” Another roll of the hips and Joe is aching for this as much as Nicky is.

When he pulls Nicky’s face back, it’s just quick enough to see the last of the scrapes from the metal heal up. But he sees them regardless, sees the heaviness in Nicky’s dark eyes beginning to set in already, and it’s like fuel to the fucking fire. Joe brushes the faint, lingering hint of blood away from Nicky’s lower lip with his thumb, then his index and middle finger, pressing them further into the other man’s mouth.

“Suck.”

Nicky’s lips close around his fingers and his cheeks hollow, tongue laving at them dutifully. Joe is so painfully hard in the confines of his jeans and the sight of pure adoration in his love’s eyes only fans the flames.

There’s no words to describe how much he loves this man—how willingly he assumed this role because he knows it’s what Nicky wants, what he needs. He’d go to the ends of the earth to be whatever his beloved desires. Joe’s devotion only burns hotter when he feels Nicky’s teeth brush over the back of his fingers, aching to take him deeper.

Joe tilts his head just a hair and feigns a mocking tone. “So needy, aren’t you, Nicolò?”

His fingers hit the back of the younger man’s throat, sharp and heavy down his esophagus, and Joe can feel Nicky’s teeth dig into his knuckles as he retches slightly. Curling his fingers down, Joe’s breath catches when Nicky gags again, saliva dripping down the inside of his palm down to his wrist. Nicky’s eyes begin to water but there’s such utter worship in his eyes that there’s no way he can stop now.

“If you’re having this hard of a time with my fingers, how are you going to take my cock?” Joe asks, shaking his head. “Are you even going to be able to handle me fucking your pretty little throat like you want me to?”

Nicky’s breath comes hard and fast through his nostrils as he nods, struggling to keep from gagging again as Joe adds a third finger into his mouth. His nails dig into his trembling thighs and he blinks back tears as he stares up at Joe. He chases Joe’s touch as a hand tangles into Nicky’s hair, tightening until the strands go taught.

“I’ll give you one chance, my love,” Joe purrs, wrenching Nicky’s head back at a sharp angle as he drags his soaked fingers from the Genoan’s mouth. He plays with the zipper on his jeans, rattling it temptingly. “If you want this, _really want this_ , I want to hear you beg for it.”

Nicky’s eyes search his, trying to find the truth in his words. It happens every time when Joe tries to trip him up, make him lose the game, but it’s only happened half a dozen times over the last thousand years. There’s no way it’s happening now. Joe raises a single eyebrow, keeping as straight of a face as he possibly can as he slowly drags the zipper down. He pulls himself free from the confines of his underwear and feels his blood go south when Nicky’s eyes stare at him with an indescribable hunger.

“Last chance, Nicolò. _Beg_.”

But the younger man keeps his silence like he’s supposed to, tilts his eager eyes up, and sinks deeper into submission.

A pleased smirk curls across Joe’s mouth. “Good boy.”

His grip on Nicky’s hair doesn’t relax in the least as he fists himself, slicking his cock with the saliva dripping from his fingers. Joe feels the heavy pump of blood beneath his palm and grips the base to calm himself down for a moment. Satisfaction pulls his mouth into a grin when he watches Nicky’s hungry eyes follow the movement of his hand.

They flick up to meet Joe’s gaze, silently pleading, _‘Don’t make me wait,’_ and he decides to take pity on Nicky.

Joe will never tire of this—never, even in another thousand years. That first perfect slide of the head of his cock past Nicky’s lips, the way they stretch around him as the other man takes him with a practiced ease. But he wants this to last. Wants to take his time so he only feeds Nicky half his cock, pulling in and out with shallow thrusts.

He can feel Nicky’s hips shifting restlessly by his feet, can feel him whining around his dick, and soothes him with a gentle pet to the cheek. “Shhh,” Joe murmurs, still making careful, testing rolls of his hips. “I’ll give you what you want, I promise.”

The muscles in Nicky’s bare shoulders tense and they both know what’s coming next.

Joe curls his fingers around the base of Nicky’s skull and snaps his hips forward, burying himself in the warm, wet heat of the younger man’s mouth. Nicky scrambles a little, eyes going wide as he gags roughly at the intrusion. Saliva bubbles out from the tight corners of his mouth before Nicky manages to suck it back in, throat working around Joe’s cock. “That’s it, baby,” Joe whispers as Nicky’s nose presses deep into the black, wiry curls at his root. “You’re doing so good—so good for me.”

Nicky gags again, shoulders hunching as his body roils with the motion, but manages to keep his hands wrapped around his bare thighs where they’re supposed to be. His eyelids flutter and there are tears clinging to his lashes as he looks up at Joe and hollows his cheeks.

The seconds tick by in long, languid intervals as Joe counts them off in his head. He can feel Nicky struggling, can see the deep crimson burning his cheeks, but still doesn’t let up. He knows Nicky would never want him to—wants to be taken over as much as Joe wants to watch him slip under.

It’s a full minute before Joe finally twists his fingers through the dark strands of Nicky’s hair and pulls the other man off his cock. A deep, rattling breath rushes into Nicky’s lungs as he coughs roughly, a string of saliva trailing off his lower lip to the head of Joe’s cock. His eyes are dazed already as his gaze tilts up and Joe wants nothing more than to see him fly to his gorgeous breaking point.

“Mmm, already so sweet and we’re just getting to the good part,” Joe hums, smearing the spit around Nicky’s swollen lips. “Don’t worry, Nicky, I’ll give you what you really want. All you have to do is be good and keep that pretty mouth open for me.”

Nicky nods fervently, keeping his devoted silence, but lets an anticipatory breath slip as his jaw goes slack.

Joe caresses the back of Nicky’s head tenderly before wrapping a hand around himself and pushing in past those perfect lips. The pace is lazy at this point, as it always is when they start, just a languid fuck into Nicky’s mouth. He welcomes the warm heat—the careful hollow of Nicky’s cheeks, the trace of his tongue on the vein underneath Joe’s cock. Joe pets him, lets his breathing deepen, and gives Nicky a chance to slip into that sweet headspace before the real fun begins.

Suddenly, he thrusts forward so sharply that he can feel the head of his cock slam into the back of Nicky’s throat before the younger man even realizes what’s happening. A sharp retching sound is muffled around him as Nicky’s eyes clench tight, hands struggling to keep a grip on his thighs. His palms come off his thighs for a split second and Joe tightens around the nape of his neck.

“Uh uh, baby,” he says, burying his cock down the tight spasm of Nicky’s throat. Nicky’s eyes flutter open, looking at him with that desperate-to-be-perfect gleam in the swirling ocean of blue. “You know where your hands go. Be a good boy.”

Nicky’s strong, sturdy hands clench around his thick thighs as he sinks back into the soft place deep inside his mind.

It’s beautiful to see him like this. So needy, so soft, so eager to let Joe completely unravel him thread by thread. There’s love and there’s devotion, but this is something else entirely. This is complete and utter _possession_.

He wraps his free hand underneath Nicky’s jaw, holding him steady as Joe fucks into his mouth freely. Joe can feel the younger man’s throat bulge—stretching around his cock like that’s all it was made for—and he tightens his grip to increase the pressure. Nicky gags again, tears rising to his eyes as saliva drips down his chin, but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t break his gaze, and Joe has no idea what he’s done to deserve a man like this.

“You just _love_ getting fucked like this don’t you?” he asks, pulling Nicky’s mouth off his cock. The Italian coughs roughly between deep, heaving breaths, lips slick and swollen as he tries to catch his breath. “You’re so hungry for my cock that you can barely think of anything else. Look at you, even now, all you want to do is get it back in your mouth.”

And it’s true. Nicky’s straining forward already, struggling to get close enough to mouth at the head once more. He whines, low in the back of his throat, and rocks his hips a little as he tries to get some kind of stimulation on his neglected dick.

Joe slaps him, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to leave a sharp red mark on Nicky’s cheek, and says, “You know the rules, Nicolò. You get what you need after I get what I want, and what _I want_ is to fuck your pretty little mouth until I come down your throat, do you understand?” He presses his thumb to the racing heartbeat at Nicky’s jugular and tilts his head up. “No more whining or I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to talk tomorrow—healing abilities or not.”

Nicky’s eyes flutter shut, his breathing slowing down to a steady crawl. His shoulders sag and he goes lax in Joe’s hand, his head lolling to the side just a hair. Nicky’s milky white throat is so glorious beneath his fingers that it takes a second for Joe to remember what he’s supposed to do.

All he wants is to bear this man back on the bed a few feet away from them, to lavish every inch of that alabaster skin with as many kisses as he can, but Joe knows it’s not what Nicky wants or needs right now, so he has to see this through to the end.

“Open your mouth; show me just how good you can be.”

It’s not like last time. There are no half-assed thrusts, no hesitant touches. No—now Joe buries himself to the root every time, tears streaming down Nicky’s flushed cheeks. He remembers when Nicky had long hair, when Joe would grab fistfuls of it to use as leverage, but he’ll make do with what he has. The heat builds low in Joe’s stomach as he crushes Nicky’s nose against his pelvis again and again until the soft hurking noises run together into one continuous sound.

“Yeah baby, _fuck_ , that’s it,” he groans as he caresses the underside of Nicky’s throat, stroking his cock from the outside. Joe tightens his grip as he feels himself throb against the younger man’s Adam’s apple.

Nicky’s feverish cheeks are wet with tears, his chin and throat slick with dripping spit, but there’s an almost serene expression on his face as he lets himself be used. A peacefulness that only comes in moments like this, like the calm in the middle of a raging storm, and gift of immortality will never compare to the knowledge that Joe is the only one who can do this to him.

The wire inside of him goes tight and Joe can feel his orgasm creeping up on him faster than he expects. The muscles in his thighs shake as he thrusts faster and faster into Nicky’s open mouth. “Nico, Nico, _Nico_ ,” he gasps through gritted teeth, the wave building into a cresting precipice. “I’m almost there, _fuck_.” Saliva bubbles up around Nicky’s lips from a particularly rough thrust, the younger man gagging through a desperate moan of his own, and Joe’s head spins as he finally crashes headfirst into his all-consuming orgasm.

He forces his entire cock down Nicky’s throat, holding him tight against his groin with both arms as Joe’s thighs clamp around the Italian’s head. Joe curls around his love’s head, riding out his pleasure in rolling thrusts as he comes in heavy spurts. Nicky chokes, spluttering around his dick as his mouth and nose disappear into the dark curls at his root.

“Hold it…” Joe instructs sternly, still grinding against Nicky’s face. “Hold it…hold it, Nico…”

Those gorgeous blue eyes stare up at him in red-rimmed awe, Nicky’s dark lashes clumping together, and he knows that Nicky knows the game far too well to argue at this point. Joe gets what he wants then Nicky gets what he needs. It’s how it’s worked from the beginning and it’s how it will work until they’re dead and buried or the earth crumbles beneath their feet—whichever comes first.

As the last of his orgasm washes through him, Joe finally pulls Nicky off his cock. A milky-white mixture of spit and come spills from the Italian’s mouth, dripping from his swollen lips down to the floor and mixing with the pool of pre-come that has dribbled from Nicky’s leaking cockhead. Nicky gasps for air, heaving as he looks up at Joe in debauched desperation. 

“P-Please,” he croaks finally, voice wrecked and shuddering. “I need it…”

Joe wraps a hand around the back of his lover’s neck, pulling him close against his leg, and urges, “Then take it, my heart.”

Nicky’s forehead falls against his thigh as he finally removes his hands from the position they’ve been in for so long and grips the fabric of Joe’s jeans with desperate fingers. The moans fall freely now as he ruts against Joe’s boot, shuddering at the sudden rush of stimulation. “It’s too much, Joe, I can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” Joe purrs, tipping the toe of his boot up to press against the underside of Nicky’s testicles. His own cock softens fully but a particularly needy whine from the younger man is almost enough to make him interested again. “You did so good for me and now I want to see you be so good to yourself.” He tangles fingers through Nicky’s sweaty hair, petting him so sweetly. “Look at how desperate you are, how much you want to let go.”

Nicky pants hard and heavy, like he still hasn’t fully caught his breath yet, as he rolls his hips more urgently. “I wanted to wait and— _ahhh_ —it’s too…” His face tips up, tears and Allah knows what else smearing across the dark fabric of Joe’s pants, and Nicky looks so painfully hungry that all thoughts leave Joe’s head except the idea of taking him apart piece by piece. “I _can’t_ …”

Joe grabs his jaw, the skin below his fingers sticky and used, and growls, “You can and you _will_ , Nicolò.”

He knows it’s hard for Nicky to come like this—rubbing off against the rough laces and worn leather of his boots, the dry scratch of his jeans—but Joe needs to see him unravel. Needs to see that moment of pure bliss on the other man’s face, so bright and glorious that it feels like looking into the sun.

Another tear rolls down Nicky’s cheek, seeping down into Joe’s tight grip, and a breathless moan rattles up from deep in his chest. “I want to be g-good,” he begs.

Joe wipes the salt away with his free hand and promises, “You _are_ good, Nico. You are _so good_ for me and I just need one more thing from you.” He pulls Nicky closer to his leg, urging him into a rolling grind once more. “I want you to come for me, just by riding my leg like the sweet little whore you are. Because I know you can and I know you want nothing more than to get my boots all messy just so you can clean them up later.”

Nicky’s eyes roll back into his head, brows furrowing as he begins to rut against his boot again. “I can still taste you, Joe,” he whines as his arms shake from his pent up desperation. “In my mouth, on my tongue, d-down my throat.”

“After you clean your mess off my boots, you’re going to taste yourself in there too,” Joe says, trying to keep his leg as grounded as he can. The steady pressure is getting to Nicky, that much he knows, and there’s no denying the steady rise in volume of Nicky’s feverish moans. Joe rocks his boot up onto the ball of his foot, grinding the laces against the underside of the Italian’s cock. “You’re _so_ close, Nico. Show me how much you love me.”

It happens in slow motion—like the creeping of a sunrise—the way Nicky comes apart.

His mouth drops open in a breathless, silent cry and his hips stutter as he spills over leather and laces. Nicky holds on so tight to Joe’s thigh that his knuckles turn white, riding out the aftershocks until there’s nothing left in him. Joe cradles his face with both hands, unable to look away as he watches every thread in his love unravel to the very marrow of his soul. It’s glorious and wicked and wild and delicate and never in a thousand years has Joe ever gotten tired of seeing it.

“There you go,” he soothes gently as Nicky comes down from that white-hot high. “There’s my good boy. I told you that you were going to get there and you listened to me, didn’t you? See how good it can be when you do what I tell you to?”

Nicky’s too gone, too delirious to do anything but nod weakly, sagging against Joe’s leg. “Please…”

“Please what?” Joe asks, voice soft and sticky sweet. “You have to say it, Nicolò…”

The post-orgasm haze turns into a flush of embarrassment as a low whine slips from Nicky’s lips. “Please…need to clean up m-my mess…” he begs, his unfocused eyes trying to find Joe’s face.

“Then be a good boy and clean it up,” Joe says with a faint smirk. “I _like_ these boots and I’d hate to leave one of them this dirty.” 

He tucks himself into his underwear and pants, zipping the fly back up as Nicky sinks to his hands and knees, cleaning the mess he left on Joe’s boot. The contrast of the younger man’s flushed, swollen lips and tongue against the black leather of his shoe is enough to send Joe’s head swelling once more. He presses the heel of his hand against his cock, willing himself calm as Nicky’s tongue laves over the milky-white streaks.

Joe can barely contain himself to let Nicky finish—to let this end—until those painful seconds pass and Nicky looks up at him, hazy eyes clearing as he finally begins to come back into his body. “Joe…” he whispers, the faintest satisfied smile pulling on his lips, and the world widens once more.

He drops to his knees, grasping Nicky’s face between both of his hands, and finally, finally, kisses him like he’s been aching to do for so long. Joe’s tongue slips into the other man’s mouth and he can taste the sweet remnants of everything Nicky, with the faintest memories of himself underneath it all. Nicky moans into the kiss, sagging graciously as he finds a steady hold on Joe’s shirt.

There’s no telling how long they kiss. It could be minutes, hours, or decades. It doesn’t matter at this point.

But when they finally break apart, they're both as out of breath as Nicky was earlier. Joe runs his fingers through Nicky’s hair, so overwhelmed with emotion that he can barely keep his body together with all the love bursting from his heart, and presses another devoted kiss to Nicky’s forehead.

“Come on, my heart. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Come hang with me on tumblr at [goldheartedsky](https://goldheartedsky.tumblr.com/)


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